


Ära och Tapperhet

by Akiko_Natsuko



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Family, Gen, Honour & Glory, Memories, Missions Gone Wrong, Promises, Protectiveness, Serious Injuries, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-23 18:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: “There are different kinds of glory, Brigitte,” Reinhardt smiled up at her, hearing the words that she hadn't said but there was a distant look in his eye that scared her, as though he was seeing something more and her grip tightened, as though that would be enough to keep him anchored there with her.





	Ära och Tapperhet

   Despite what he might say to the others when they chided him for dragging Brigitte around the world with him, Reinhardt had often doubted his decision to let her follow him, to take her from the family waiting for at her home and lead her headlong into danger. It had been worse when she had decided to take the field with him, not because she couldn’t fight, but because of the lengths she had proven herself willing to go to in order to protect others. To protect him. It scared him to see so much of himself in her, to know that she would go as far as he’d done in the past, even as his heart swelled with pride as he watched her standing tall, a Crusader in her own right.

     It was why he watched her now, her flail dancing through the air, her aim unerring even though her attention was split between the Omnics they were fighting, him as he did his best to shelter the small group of civilians he’d managed to push back against a wall and the others who were trapped on the far side of the street. He’d learnt long ago that you had to focus, you had to protect what you could, and he knew that it was a lesson that she had yet to learn, watching as she wavered, torn between staying with him and reaching the others. It was a lesson that she needed to learn before she went to far, risked herself one to many times…it was also a lesson he desperately wished she didn’t need to know, because it was one that left a stain on your soul, a weight he had learned to bear.

    It was a weight he couldn’t protect her from anymore he realised, staggering a little, before catching himself, refusing to let his shield drop. There were going to be losses today. The information Winston had fed them had been wrong, they were outnumbered and outmanoeuvred, and they had people, families relying on them and whilst help was coming, it wouldn’t be here in time. The damage had already been done, he could feel it in the flickering power of his suit, the dampness pooling at his side and he had a feeling that if he looked down, he would see blue liquid trickling from the damaged armour, just as he had all those years ago. Brigitte hadn’t noticed yet, otherwise she would have already been back at his side and trying to patch him up and he took a deep breath, moving his arm so that the shield hid the damage from sight.

Making his choice, just as Balderich had for him.

“Go,” Reinhardt ordered as Brigitte glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, seeing her hesitation and he carefully straightened, offering her a small smile before he tilted his head towards her shield. “And keep your shield up.”

“I’ll be right back,” Brigitte said finally after studying him for a moment, head tilted to the side as it always was when she didn’t quite trust what he was saying. “Don’t do anything reckless.” She sounded so much like her parents right then that he faltered, it was the same bossy tone that Tjorbörn had always used on him, the one where he already knew his words were going to fall on deaf ears. Whilst the look had certainly be taken from Ingrid, the same look that could halt her children and grandchildren mid-step, although meeting her gaze, he could see that as similar as it was, she had moulded the look for her own use. A fire burned in her eyes that came from neither of her parents, and it was only when she turned away, charging across the open street, moving her shield to cover her side as fresh fire tracked her path.

“Fall back,” he ordered turning his attention back to the civilians he was shielding, managing to keep the smile in place as he saw the fear in their eyes. It was an expression he had seen too many times during the Crisis, and one he had hoped Overwatch would eradicate, instead the battlefields had changed, the enemies had changed…but the fear was the same. Glancing behind him, was relieved to see that several of the buildings behind them, houses and what looked like it had been a corner shop, one of the low-tech ones that still existed in these backwaters, were still fairly intact. “Get inside,” he added, pointing to the last building in the row that had taken the least amount of damage. “Stick to the rear of building and don’t come out until we tell you.”

“But…my daughter.” The protest was soft, almost weak, but the desperation in the woman’s voice as she glanced across the street was anything but and Reinhardt’s heart went out to her. It was a plea he had heard too many times, in too many forms.

“We’ll get her,” he promised, knowing that Brigitte would settle for nothing less, but his expression hardened, the veteran soldier showing through. “But I need you to get to safety, so that we can focus on rescuing the others.” It was clear that they wanted to argue further, but his glare had silenced most of them and the others were silenced as he was forced to turn his attention back to the front, bracing himself just as a fresh volley slammed into his shield, hard enough to make the blue flicker badly. “Go!” He ground out, risking a glance across at Brigitte who was caught in a barrage of her own, lips quirking up in a proud grin as she waited for the brief opportunity granted by the end of a clip to lash out, hearing the flail striking metal followed by the shriek of a dying Omnic.

    Movement told him that the fresh danger had encouraged the civilians to obey, and he shifted the shield, moving to cover their retreat but not following them. He was a shield.

   As soon as he was sure that they were safe, he let himself fall back, glancing across and seeing that Brigitte was in position, ushering the other civilians back into shelter. Her smaller shield meant that she had to move with them, and he let out a small sigh as she moved back, letting himself fall back against the crumbling wall, his shield still holding for now and finally looked down, lifting his hand away from his side. As he’d suspected the side of his armour was leaking, blue tickling down the dented metal plates, but more worrying was the blood that mingled with it. That meant that the damage was deep, and now that he had nothing to distract him he could feel it, metal scraping against skin with each breath, adding to the dampness pooling inside. 

 _“Reinhardt, is everything okay out there?”_ Brigitte’s voice erupted in his ear, and he flinched, hastily straightening and dragging his hand away from the wound, before a quick glance across to the other side confirmed that she was still out of sight.

“It’s fine,” he replied, eyes moving to where the Omnics had barricaded themselves at the other end of the street. Apparently, they hadn’t been expecting resistance, and they seemed to be taking time to regroup. A trait that worried him. _At least during the Crisis, most of the units they had met in the field had, had limited access to the God Program and as such they had little awareness of strategy and had thrown themselves into battle with no regard to their safety, not that it had made them less dangerous._ Still, this new generation of Omics were different. Dangerous. And his fingers tightened on his hammer. “Stay where you are.”  Ignoring her muffled protest, he changed channels on the communicator. “Lena, how far away are you?”

 _“Five minutes,”_ Lena replied at once, telling him that she had been waiting for the call and he sighed with relief.  He could hold on that long…he hoped, he amended, glancing down at his side one more time. _“We’re going to come in right on top of you.”_

“The road is clear,” Reinhardt replied.  “The Omnics had barricaded the corner of the high street.”

 _“Any injuries.”_ Ana’s voice broke in.

“Yes.”   

_“Reinhardt…”_

“Just get here.” There was no way he was going to risk saying more than that, unsure of whether Brigitte would have thought to tune into the conversation. If she had and he gave too much away, then he knew that she would rush to him, regardless of the danger.

It was what he would do.

    Movement caught his attention, and his gaze shifted to one of the buildings just down from where Brigitte had taken shelter. Light glistened off metal and he cursed, his eyes darting to the barricade and back again. It had been a distraction, lulling them into a false sense of security as they tried to flank them, and he growled.

 _“Reinhardt.”_ There was a note of alarm in Brigitte’s voice, clearly, she had caught the movement as well and he could hear frightened voices behind her and he closed his eyes. _Five minutes…_

 _“_ Stay put.” He checked his shield, noting the hairline cracks that were already spreading through the blue although the flickering had ceased. It wouldn’t be able to take too much more, and he doubted he would be given a chance to recharge it…but…he tracked the movement with narrowed eyes, knowing that he had little choice.  “The team are nearly here, I can handle this.”

_“But….”_

“That is a command, Squire.” He hated taking that tone with her, hated pulling rank, not missing her sharp intake of breath and trying not to imagine the hurt expression that had probably greeted his words. It was something he had always hated in Overwatch, especially in the days before his ‘retirement’ when the easy balance between the Strike Team had been fading away, but he couldn’t risk her. Especially when…his hand strayed to his side. _Five minutes. I have that much left in me._ He straightened, lifting his hammer and trying not to notice how much effort that simple action demanded. “You are their shield, protect them.”

_“Understood. Just…stay safe.”_

“I will.”

It was the first time he had ever lied to her.

And it would be the last.

**

    Brigitte let her hand fall away from her ear, checking her shield and flail to try and hide her worry before turning to look at the people crowded into the room behind her. Some of them were injured, but whilst she had done what she could for the more serious wounds, she was leaving the minor ones for now, knowing better than most that you had to conserve your strength in battle. Although it had taken nearly losing Reinhardt after she had expended all her energy to early on for her to learn that lesson, and she sighed, worrying at her bottom lip as she thought the urge to contact him again. He shouldn’t be fighting alone, it was why she had worked so hard to be able to fight at his side, but…she felt someone tugging at her arm and she turned her head, expression softening as she found a young boy, barely more than ten looking up at her with wide, frightened eyes.

“It’s okay,” Brigitte murmured, managing to summon up a smile as she spied the younger boy peering around his legs. There fear was palpable and looking up she saw that the rest of the group, children and adults alike were in a similar state and she took a deep breath. _I am there shield._ That didn’t mean just protecting them from physical danger, it meant protecting their hopes, their spirits…Reinhardt had taught her that, keeping her spirits up, even when she had started to think she would never be able to fight at his side, or when she had been unable to do anything but watch over him as he healed. “Help is almost here, and Reinhardt will hold until then.” _I hope,_ she added silently, hoping that her fear wasn’t written across her face. Because she was afraid…no, she was terrified, because she had never heard Reinhardt use that tone before, and he had never pulled rank on her before. “And I am here,” she added, needing to keep talking to stop her fear from taking hold and she straightened, holding up her shield as she turned towards where she could here the Omnics moving towards them, letting it flicker to life once more. “And I won’t let them through.”

_I am their shield._

**

    Reinhardt had known that it was a suicide mission from the start. His body felt heavier than he could ever remember it, the weakness and exhaustion that he had been trying to keep at bay with the promise of rescue coming hitting him as he felt that hope slipping away. If Angela had been on the incoming team then maybe… but she was back at base working on Genji who had suffered severe damage on his last mission, and it was too far. Ana and Brigitte could only do so much, and this…he took a slow step forward, pain lancing through his side and fresh dampness pooling against his side, this was too much for them. When he was younger he might have believed he could make it, might have clung to the false hope until the very end. Now, he could feel the cold grip of reality, but with it came acceptance as settled his hammer and shield into a ready position.

“Live with honour, die with glory,” he whispered, even as he forced the boosters on his suit to life, feeling how sluggishly they responded and knowing he would only get one chance at this. One last charge. _I’m sorry Brigitte…_

He charged.

*

_Reinhardt, where are you?_

    Brigitte could hear the Omnics getting closer and she tensed, urging her charges right to the back of the room and readying herself. They weren’t going to have much room to move, which meant that she would have the advantage, but… there was no way out. If they attacked now, they were all trapped in here and depending on her to protect them. _I am their shield,_ it sounded shaky even in the safety of her mind and she realised that her fingers were trembling a little and she scowled, forcing them to still. _I am their shield. I am Reinhardt’s Squire. I…_

    There! She heard the familiar roar of his thrusters coming to life, relief flooding her. He was coming. But… She might not just be an engineer anymore, but she hadn’t lost those skills or let them dull and her eyes widened at the noise they were making. Something was wrong. She was frozen in place, torn between dashing out there to check on him and watching over the people behind them. He’d said that he could handle it, and she knew better than anyone that despite his age he was still a force to be reckoned with and he had promised her that he wouldn’t do anything reckless.

_But this is Reinhardt…_

     The Omnics at the barricade had opened fire again, and she knew that he was their target and her grip tightened. She should be there…

     She had just taken a step forward, her decision half made when the entire building shuddered as though something heavy had just slammed into it, drawing cries of alarm from behind her and she automatically threw up her shield. It took her a moment to realise that the impact hadn’t been in the house they were sheltering in, but the building next door and her eyes widened as she heard Reinhardt’s war cry, and the familiar clang of his hammer connecting. He was here, he was fighting and…her relief was short-lived as his voice was cut off with a sharp shout of pain, and she was moving before she had even thought about what she was doing.

 He wouldn’t fight alone.

“Stay here!” She shouted over her shoulder, just as she registered the familiar rumble of the dropship’s engines outside. Help was here, and already she could hear the sharp retort of a sniper rifle and her lips curled up in a smile for half a second. _They came._ She had grown up on the stories of Overwatch, but she had also seen the pain it had caused her father and god-father and she had been uncertain of them in the beginning, but Reinhardt had answered the call and she had followed and right now she was grateful for that fact.

    Shield raised she darted outside, briefly taking in the fresh destruction that had been caused whilst she’d been inside and the Overwatch team that were now removing forward to engage the Omnics still holding the barricade. Trusting them to handle that she turned, eyes following the line that had been gouged into the road by Omnic fire and sucking in a breath as she lifted her head and took in the large hole that had been blasted in the side of the house next to the one she had been sheltered in… and she was running before she had fully absorbed the sight, because she knew what had happened, what he had done and she also realised that the sounds of fighting that she had heard before were no longer audible. _No._

“REINHARDT!!”

**

     Reinhardt groaned, stirring as a distant voice broke through the grey fog that had filled his mind and slowly he opened his eye, blinking as the world swam in and out of focus around him, trying to fight the urge to close it again as pain and exhaustion washed over him. He could hear fighting in the distance, and closer, he could hear the clatter of armour moving over rubble and he tensed, immediately regretting it as it ignited a sick fire in his side. _Someone’s coming…_ weakly he flexed his fingers, trying to find his hammer, but if it was still there it was out of reach and his arm wasn’t listening to his commands. Unable to move he let his head loll to the side, dark spots dancing across vision as he did so, and he could vaguely make out the mangled remains of the Omnics he had been fighting.

    His charge had been nothing short of reckless, and he had come under heavy fire the moment he had stared moving and his shield had barely reflected half of it before it had shattered completely, leaving him defenceless for the last few feet. He’d felt the bullets ricocheting of his armour, and from the grinding pain as he moved now, some had made it through his already compromised armour. The collision with the building, something he could just have shaken off a few years ago had nearly stopped him in his tracks, igniting every one of his injuries and it had taken every scrap of strength he’d had to life his hammer and go in swinging.

    The close quarters had given him the advantage, as there was nowhere for the Omnics to escape to and his arrival had clearly caught them off guard. However, it had also meant that he had no way of escaping their bullets, and with his shield still recharging his armour had taken the brunt of the damage, and he could feel it now, even though he was laid there doing nothing but trying to breathe. More of the armour had caved inwards, sharp edges drawing lines against his skin, adding to the blood pooling in his suit and making each breathe and each miniscule movement an exercise in pain.

“Reinhardt!” _Brigitte…_ He blinked, not remembering closing his eye again as he turned his head towards the sound. He didn’t want her to see him like this, but his voice wasn’t working, and he could do nothing but wait, listening as she came closer, vision wavering in and out of focus. “No.” Her voice was closer now, and the next moment he heard the clank of armour as she fell to her knees by his side, and he could already feeling her trying to heal him, panic written across her face as she lightly tapped his cheek forcing him to focus on her.  “No, don’t you dare do this to me.”

“Brigitte…”

“I said no,” Brigitte shouted over him, knowing deep down what he was going to tell her and refusing to listen to the words. Fumbling one handed she reached for the communicator, ignoring Reinhardt when he tried to lift a hand to stop her, fixing him with a glare. There was no way she was letting it end this way, no way she was going to let him go without a fight…but she couldn’t do it alone, not this time and her voice cracked as it crackled to life.  “Ana, I need help! We’re in the fourth house on the right…hurry.” Her voice broke again, this time with a sob and Ana’s reply was lost to her as she reached for Reinhardt again, realising that his eye was drifting shut again. “Reinhardt, you’ve got to stay awake. Please…”

    Exhaustion was threatening to pull him under, but he hadn’t heard that frightened voice since she had been a child, creeping into his room one night when he had returned from a mission injured, terrified that she was going to lose her god-father even though her parents had told her he would be find. He hadn’t been able to deny her then, and he couldn’t do it now, forcing his eyes open again and blinking wearily at her.  She was trying to smile at him now, the effect ruined by the tears he could see threatening to fall and the way her hands trembled as she tried to work his armour free to get to his wounds. “Leave it…” There was no point, not anymore and even if Ana got here before…it wouldn’t be enough, and he didn’t want her to see the damage hidden beneath his armour.

“I need to see what I’m doing,” she muttered, ignoring him as she fumbled with the clasps, movements that she had done hundreds of time made a thousand times harder by her shaking hands. “I’m going to fix this.” That was what she did, she fixed things…this was just something else she needed to fix, another wound that she had to patch up. “You’re going to be okay.” She wasn’t sure which of them she was trying to convince. “I promised that I would look after you…I promised to keep you safe, and I’m going to…I’m going to…”

 

  _She had promised._

*

_“Papa?” Brigitte called as she slipped into the workshop, pausing for a moment as she drank in the familiar sights and smells. **She was going to miss this**. She had spent countless hours in here since she had been deemed old enough to help her father, not including all the times she had snuck inside when she had been younger, always taking comfort in the sounds of her father working and the scent of metal.  She can hear him now, muttering under his breath as he bustles around in the far corner and she smiles, knowing that he hadn’t even heard her enter no doubt lost in whatever he’s working on this time. Closing the door behind her she headed deeper into the workshop, working her way unerringly through the maze of shelves, workbenches and piles of supplies. “Papa,” she called again as she spied him bent over his favourite workbench, head bowed, completely focused on whatever he was working on and she’s rewarded with a grunt of acknowledgement and a request._

_“Pass me the files from over there.” She ignores the vague wave of his hand towards the shelves on the other wall, already reaching for the box of files he wants, carrying them across to him and setting them down, peering at what he’s working on. It’s a tiny, old-fashioned railway set, and she’s reminded of the fact that her youngest brother had been begging for one ever since he had been taken to the Transport Museum with school.  The engine that he’s working on is nothing like the sleek machines that they have today, but its beautiful even unfinished at it is and for a couple of minutes she just watches him work, mesmerised as always by the confident movements as he uses one of the files to remove the tiniest bits of metal, shaping it inch by inch._

_It takes her a while to remember why she’d come down here, and she hesitates, biting at her bottom lip. Her mother had been incredibly vocal about what she thought about her daughter trailing around the world, even if Reinhardt was family and her siblings had been pleading with her to stay ever since she had told them what she was planning. Her father however had been strangely silent on the matter, not even responding to her mother’s pleas for him to intervene and if Brigitte was honest the silence scared her more than anything. Was he disappointed in her choice?  In her? She had spent so long honing her skills, trying to follow in his footsteps and the thought of losing his approval…however, she wasn’t his daughter or the god-daughter of a Crusader for nothing and she gathered her courage, leaning forward to rest her hand on the workbench, knowing that he would notice even though his attention didn’t seem to waver from his work.  “Aren’t you going to try and talk me out of it?”_

_“Would you listen to me if I did?” Torbjörn asked after a moment of silence, filing away a final sliver of metal before setting the tool aside and lifting his head to look at her, a knowing expression on his face and she can’t help but colour under his gaze. **No**. She might be worried about his response, but she has already made up her mind and her hands ball into fists as she steels herself to say as much, but he beats her to it, a hint of humour in his voice. “I thought not.”_

_“Papa…”_

_“You’re old enough to make your own choices now,” Torbjörn continued.  “Even if it pains me to admit it.” There’s a flicker of something, melancholy perhaps as he glances down at his prosthetic arm, reaching out to rub at the joint and Brigitte knows that his thoughts have turned to the past, to Overwatch as his fingers linger, tracing over the metal that had once been the medallion that had summoned him to join he Strike Team. “I wish…” His sigh is deep, the weariness, the memories are something that he rarely shows around their family, refusing to let the past weigh on the life he has now, and Brigitte can’t look away as he meets her gaze, a slightly bitter smile twisting at his lips.   “I wish that the world had stayed peaceful, that I could let you go and know that you would be safe. But…” But it isn’t. They’ve all read the news, seen the footage and they’ve seen Reinhardt returning to them battered and bruised, unable to stop protecting others even though the world has changed._

_Brigitte’s hands clench tighter, hating the fact that everything her father and his friends had fought for is coming undone around them. Hating the fact that even after everything, both he and Reinhardt are determined to see the best in people, in the world, that they’re both still willing to fight in their own ways. It’s why she must go, because someone needs to make sure that people like them are taken care of, and her father has their family around him but Reinhardt… Reinhardt doesn’t have that, and she knows that the loneliness weighs on him, has seen the way he always comes to life when he visits, and yet he can’t stop travelling, can’t stop trying to protect people. There’s no way she can take that from him, and that is why she was going._

_“Brigitte…” She’s drawn out of her thoughts, blinking as she focused on her father once more. “I want you to promise that you’ll look after the old fool.” There’s fondness in the insult, and she smiles, remembering all the bickering between the pair, especially when they’ve challenged each other to a drinking competition._

_“Shouldn’t you be telling me to take care of myself?”_

_“I already know that you can take care of yourself,” Torbjörn points out and there’s pride in his voice that has her standing straighter.  “Besides, I know Reinhardt will keep you safe no matter what it costs.” **Even if it costs him his life** , Brigitte doesn’t need to hear the words to know what he’s thinking. She’s heard all the stories, the tales of her god-father’s recklessness when he was younger and later his willingness to shield his team at any cost, had seen the scars that determination had earned him. She swallows, realising the weight of the promise that she is about to make, and the faith her father is putting in her just by asking for it and its only when she’s certain that her voice won’t waver that she replies._

_“I’ll watch over him, Papa.”_

“I promised…”

    Reinhardt’s expression softened at the desperation in her voice. He had never asked, but he had always known that she hadn’t followed him just because of the stories and her childhood daydreams of becoming a Crusader, but it hurt to hear it now and to realise what his actions were going to cost her. It wasn’t a promise that she should’ve had to make, and once again he found himself questioning letting her come with him, letting it come to this point. “Not all promises can be kept…” How many had he broken? He had promised his team that he would always be their shield and look what had happened…they had lost Ana…and then Zurich had happened, and whilst some of them had returned, it hadn’t been because of him. He had still failed.

“I’m keeping this one!” Defiance. Desperation. She was so much like he had been when he was that age, and his heart ached. This was the lesson he had wanted to protect her from, and he closed his eyes, searching for the words that would help, searching for something…anything…that would ease the weight, and his mind drifted, back to another young Crusader and the words that had stopped him crumbling under the burden of realising that you couldn’t save everyone, that you couldn’t win every battle.

“Brigitte…” He broke off with a gasp, only sheer stubbornness stopping the cry that wanted to burst out as her attempts to remove his armour caused part of it to press deeper into his side. Brigitte stilled immediately, and he took the chance to move, pushing through the pain to reach for her hands, holding them loosely in his own. For a moment his thoughts wandered…she had grown so much, her hands had always been smaller than his, but now her grip was strong, that of a warrior as she gripped him back. “What…” His voice didn’t want to comply anymore, but he didn’t have the time, could feel it trickling away with each shaky exhale and his fingers tightened as he fought to get the words out. “What…is the oath I took….”

“Live with honour, die with glory,” Brigitte’s voice trembled as she whispered the words that she had heard since childhood. When she had been little she had thought they were just words. Grand words, made even better by hearing them in his booming voice and seeing his eye light up as he recited them to her, but as she had grown up, and seen him living by those words every day they had come to mean a lot more. They were his reason for fighting, his reason for throwing himself headlong into danger even when most people his age would have stepped down long ago, and at some point, they had become part of her too. Part of her reason for becoming his Squire, for learning to be able to fight by his side, to make sure that he could live and continue to fight with honour, and to stop his death from coming too soon. “But… you can’t die, not like this! This…” _This isn’t the glorious ending you always spoke about in your stories…_

“There are different kinds of glory, Brigitte,” Reinhardt smiled up at her, hearing the words that she hadn’t said but there was a distant look in his eye that scared her, as though he was seeing something more and her grip tightened, as though that would be enough to keep him anchored there with her. “I dreamed of it once, dying in a blaze of glory. A hero. A Crusader.”   There was a twinge of bitterness then, a hint of loss and she knew that he was remembering all the people he had lost, the mistakes he had made. He had never hidden those failures from her, never shielded her from the fact that you couldn’t protect everyone. Yet at the same time she wanted to scold him, to shout that he was all of those things. That he had always been those things, from the time she was a small child sat watching with wondering eyes as he regaled her with tales of his heroics, to the times he had pushed himself to the limit to protect, and the long hours he had spent making sure that she knew how to protect herself if she was going to take the field with him.

“Rein…”

“This,” he murmured cutting her off, although his smile told her that he knew what she had been about to say. He had always known. Her father had teased them about it, how they would finish each other’s lines at times and how as she’d grown older she’d helped tell her nieces and nephews the same stories that she had grown up with, the words that had shaped her into something more than an Engineer. “This is enough,” he continued, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment. They couldn’t hear fighting anymore, and there were voices outside now, men and women crying out, children calling to their parents… the people they had saved being reunited with their loved ones.  “More than enough.” _More than I expected to have…_ Brigitte could hear the words he hadn’t said. He would admit it to anyone, but she knew that he had been feeling his age more recently, second guessing his choice to keep fighting, to answer the recall.

   For the first time in her life she found that she didn’t have the words to argue with him, her voice trapped behind the lump had risen in the back of her throat. Where was Ana? But she knew… the part of her that had been raised with the reality of war, knew that it didn’t matter if the older woman came. It was too late… it had been too late long before she’d called for help, and she couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks. “…my hammer…” Reinhardt’s voice was fading now, but his gaze was intense and reluctantly she let go of him, dashing a hand across her eyes before looking around, spotting his weapon lying tangled in the mangled remains of an Omnic.

“It’s here…”

“Give it…” His voice failed, but it was enough, and she nodded unable to deny him anything right now, although she was reluctant to move from his side. It was a fight to free the hammer, but eventually it came free nearly sending her stumbling back. She lifted it, struggling under the weight even after all the training she’d put in, faltering as she heard movement outside, hearing Ana and Lena calling for them and she opened her mouth to call to them when she caught sight of Reinhardt shaking his head slightly. She hesitated, but she knew they would find them and reluctantly she moved back to his side, hauling the hammer with her. Reaching his side, she carefully lowered it to the ground beside him, watching with stinging eyes as he reached for it, attempting to curl trembling fingers around it.

   It was clear his hand was no longer obeying his commands, and stifling a sob she knelt beside him again, aware of the footsteps behind her, but unable to look away as she reached out and helped him curl his fingers around the shaft. His eyes closed, and she jolted forward in alarm, only to be stopped by the feel of him weakly nudging her fingers and wide-eyed she let him push the shaft into her hand, tears flowing freely now as she let her fingers curl around it. “Live with honour.” It was barely a whisper of sound, nothing like the booming voice that had recited the words to her when she was younger, and yet the words hit her harder than they’d ever done before.

“Die with glory,” Brigitte whispered, feeling oddly numb as her fingers curled around the token in her hands, tears blurring her vision as she saw the smile on his face. She knew this story, just as she knew the words he was looking for and she swallowed, ignoring the anguished gasp from behind her, the footsteps she had nearly forgotten about stumbling to a halt behind her. However, she also knew that this was different…he hadn’t just been a mentor, he had been family and her voice cracked and broke, a sob catching in her throat as she remembered all the times they’d spent together, listening to his stories, watching him laugh and trade friendly jibes with her parents. “Din gammla kluns.”


End file.
